I don't know why I'm living this and what the point is
Is it just an obstacle or the real destiny?
The sound of horses' hooves echoed through the forest branches, awakening the silence. Four horsemen, with unshaven beards and dark clothes, looked like ghosts, followed by the scent of iron and fire. Their eyes scanned the road, as if searching for something... or someone. They were soldiers, but nothing about them betrayed mercy.
In broad daylight, they approached an abandoned building, its roof nearly collapsed, its walls groaning from damp and mold... the old orphanage.
Upstairs, Mayuth sat on the floor, his back bent, cleaning a corroded chimney with a torn rag.
The work wasn't voluntary, but rather a bargain: a small amount of food in exchange for his daily services.
The room was simple, like the shell of a forgotten memory; A wooden table surrounded by rickety chairs and thin mattresses stuffed with straw, which he shared with several orphaned children.
Despite the bitterness of the place, there was something in Mayouth's heart that kept him there.
Camo... He was the reason why Mayuth stayed in an orphanage. . He was the only reason Mayouth hesitated to leave.
But he wasn't alone in that room. There was also a girl, with thick black hair falling over her shoulders and pale blue eyes like the light of a winter moon. She didn't speak... didn't smile... and barely moved. She was so quiet that it frightened even the most boisterous children.
Suddenly, a voice filtered in from below, faint as if it were coming through the decayed wooden walls.
> "Sometimes we see him, sometimes we don't..."
"Have you noticed? He disappears for days, then returns as if nothing had happened..."
The voices of the orphanage's owners were speaking with increasing concern.
Mayouth realized that his cards were beginning to be exposed, and that his actions were becoming suspect.
He stood up quietly and stood on the table in the middle of the room. The children stared at him in surprise.
He smiled a small smile, as if to hide a storm, then said:
> "Listen, it's time. We're leaving here... all of us."
"To where?" one of them asked fearfully.
"It doesn't matter. Beyond this misery is life. I have a plan, one I've been planning for a year. Just... trust me."
They hesitated for a moment, then Camus stepped forward and handed him a small white flower, with a delicate, soothing scent.
Maymouth held it in his trembling hand and closed his eyes.
> "Get ready. Tomorrow at sunrise... we leave."
The next day, as heavy gray clouds crept east, Maymouth was practicing in the forest.
His hand tightened around a wooden bow he'd recently purchased, having stolen a few coins from a sleeping merchant in one of the villages.
He was hunting rabbits. It wasn't just for food, but for the feeling... the feeling of control. A feeling that there was something, however small, he could still control.
But suddenly, the bow fell from his hand.
A strange dizziness, as if the world was spinning around him.
He sat down, leaned against a tree trunk, and then smelled something.
A strange smell... blood.
He slowly got up, followed the scent until he found a red spot on the leaves.
He approached, his heart racing.
Then he saw it...
A human body, torn apart, his face covered in blood, his arm severed at the shoulder.
A young man, about his age. Blonde, wearing old blue and brown clothes, as if from a forgotten time.
On his severed arm... a tattoo resembling a sun, with a black dot in the middle.
He searched his clothes, then found a piece of paper lying next to the body, with vague words in a language he didn't know, but his heart understood:
> Has my moment come? I feel I will be one of them... the...
With some words about the symptoms of its villages, some of which had happened to him quickly... He was surprised. About that...
Mayoth stared for a long time...
Then he heard a voice behind him.
He turned quickly.
He saw the traces of a wolf, large, unnatural lions... standing on a rock, staring at him. A moment of terror struck him. He left the place and that piece of paper, with the words:
I will be one of them, the spectres...
Chapter: Ashes on the Sidewalks
As sunset approached, he reached a small village known as "The Ruins."
The people there walked quickly, dragging their children, closing the doors without saying goodbye.
Something was about to happen.
And in the middle of the night, hell came...
Men in black on horseback stormed the village.
They were like curses walking on all fours.
They began destroying homes, setting fires, and shouting:
> "Who among you bears the sin? Who among you is infected? If you don't hand them over... you will burn."
They were government soldiers, but something about them was demonic.
Mayoth hid and watched.
After an hour and a half, they withdrew, leaving behind ashes and a warning:
> "We will return. And this time... we will wipe out this village like the rest of the poor areas."
--
As the sun rose, Mayuth returned to the orphanage.
His heart pounded. The children were waiting for him, planning their escape.
But he sensed something strange in the air... smoke.
He hurried.
The doors of the orphanage were open, and some of the walls were black from the fire.
He entered and ran upstairs.
Then he froze.
The room... burned.
The beds... laid small, dismembered, charred bodies.
Every one of them... every child, even Camus...
He fell to his knees.
His groan wasn't a cry, more like a collapse of spirit.
He slowly went down.
He faced the orphanage owners.
> "Did you do this?"
The old man trembled.
> "No... we didn't do anything... the room was tightly closed... we saw a man fleeing in black clothes... we didn't We see his face..."
Mayoth looked at them with dead eyes.
> "They were just children..."
"A white flower in a world of poison."
"And now... you will grow on their ashes."
In the rain that suddenly began to fall, he buried them one by one, with his own hands.
Each child, a grave.
Then he left the white flower behind.
And he left...
His eyes saw nothing but blood.